The Night I Found Your Father
by deepfriedcake
Summary: "Dear Emily and Richard" gets changed up when Luke is added to the story.
1. A Call for Help

**Author's Notes:** Here's another story of mine that was previously posted on BWR. It's based on "Dear Emily and Richard," one of my favorite episodes, and contains some dialogue directly from show because of that fact. I like the episode so much that there was only one thing to do to make it even better - add Luke in! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

The chair wasn't too bad, Lorelai thought, cautiously sitting down in the overstuffed easy chair. She remembered all too clearly the hard plastic molded ones in the room when Rory was born.

From down the hall she could hear a newborn starting to wail. Soon, two or three others joined the first in an impromptu chorus.

In her arms, however, the alternate to the most beautiful baby in the world was studying her silently with eyes as deep as midnight. Lorelai's fingers couldn't stop rubbing the rose petal cheeks, or slipping under the little knitted cap to feel the downy whorls of curls, or softly pinching the tiniest little toes wrapped up under the thermal blanket.

"You don't look sleepy," she whispered to the new arrival.

The baby's fathomless eyes never left hers. They seemed to understand everything.

"Would you like me to tell you a story?" she asked. The baby's head tilted to one side, and she took that as a sign.

"OK," she said, settling herself even more comfortably in the chair. "This is the story about the night you got started. This is the story about how I found your Daddy."

She bent forward to press her lips against the baby's forehead, one last taste before she got started. "Well, I was at your Grandma's for dinner, and it was just me and Grandma, because Grandpa was out of town on a trip, and Rory was in Boston. Things were going amazingly well for once, but then my phone rang." She paused to take a deep breath. "And then things got interesting," she remarked, smiling down at the fascinated baby. "What until you hear what happened next..."

* * *

"Where are you going?" Emily Gilmore scrambled to ask. She dropped her napkin on the table as she rose from her seat, mirroring her daughter's abrupt movements.

"Sherry's freaking out." Lorelai moved quickly into the parlor where her coat and purse had been left on the couch. "Rory's the only one with her, so I'm going to the hospital."

Emily watched her pull on her coat with growing irritation. "You're going to be with Rory's father's girlfriend while she has his baby?" she demanded, phrasing it to sound as ridiculous as possible.

"Gee, Mom, I can't at all tell what your opinion on that might be," Lorelai said, the sarcasm of her words almost overshadowed by her impatience. She tugged her hair free from her coat collar while keeping on her quest to the front door.

"Why would you do this?" Emily followed at her heels, hoping to keep her daughter from making one more mistake. "This woman pulled Christopher away from you! Away from Rory! She destroyed any chance you may have had ―"

Lorelai spun to face her mother, the inevitability of being able to make her understand anything once again making her feel hollow and ignored. "Rory asked me to come, and that's what I'm going to do!"

"I don't understand what Rory's doing there either!" Emily protested.

"She's going to have a sister!" Lorelai's voice was strong enough to cover up the despair.

"Half-sister!" Emily had to point out.

It was useless. Useless. And Rory needed her.

"Thank you for a lovely dinner. I'll see you next week," she said with polite finality and walked out of the door, which brought her one step closer to her daughter.

The Jeep was navigating through downtown Hartford before Lorelai could take a deep breath and loosen her death grip on the steering wheel. Why did she always expect things to be different? Why did she always think that one day her mother would understand? Why did she always think that one day her mother would love _her_ the way she loved Rory?

She knew her mother thought she was a fool for rushing to the hospital like this. Emily didn't understand that Rory was the center of her world. If Rory needed her, anywhere, anytime, she'd be there for her.

But Lorelai's reality was knowing that she'd never been anywhere near the center of her mother's world. She knew Emily would have never dropped everything and rushed to her side. Or if she had, Lorelai would have certainly gotten a lecture about her intrusion into Emily's careful schedule of D.A.R. events and themed cocktail parties.

Her throat tightened as tears from decades of frustration threatened to overwhelm her. She shook them off, her hair whipping her cheeks.

Rory. That was all that mattered now. She needed to get to Rory.

She'd deal with her mother and the incredibly awkward tension of helping Sherry deliver Christopher's baby later. Right now she just needed to get to Boston.

She made a left-hand turn and followed sparse traffic into what had at one time been Hartford's manufacturing district. The last several years had brought rejuvenation to the dingy buildings and empty streets. Newly opened up loft apartments looked down upon classy boutique shops, hot new restaurants, and a plethora of coffee shops.

Lorelai's concentration was distracted by a fire engine red abstract sculpture outside of a bookstore, so much so that she didn't realize for a moment or two that Jeep was no longer powering down the street.

"What? No. No!" The car was dead, completely dead. With no power steering, she used brute strength to force the pile of metal over to the side, stopping more or less within a parking space.

She jammed the gearshift into park and turned off the ignition, even though nothing was igniting anyway. "Come on, come on!" she urged, trying to get the motor to turn over. But there was nothing, not even the low growl of a powerless battery. All she heard was an ominous 'click' of despair.

She sat back, her mind whirling through options in an effort to keep panic at bay. She needed to get to Boston. How was immaterial. Maybe she could take a taxi. The figures from last month's Visa statement flashed before her and she shrugged. Maybe…she could get a taxi to take her to the train station. Yes. That was a plan. How didn't matter. All that mattered was getting to Rory.

Lorelai watched in the side view mirror for an opportunity to open her door. She exited quickly, locking the door and throwing the keys into her purse. She tightened the belt on her coat as she stepped up onto the curb because the night had gotten colder.

She kept her head down, heading for the first restaurant on her side of the street. She figured she could ask them to call her a cab.

She hurried by a vacant lot that had been turned into a parking lot for the nearby businesses. She was probably a few yards past it before her mind caught up to what she'd just seen. She backed up, not able to believe her incredible good luck.

It was Luke's truck. It had to be. How many ancient green pickups could there be in the state of Connecticut?

Her head swiveled around the block, trying to decipher where they'd be. Her sights settled on _L'Bamboo_, a trendy, sophisticated eatery Sookie had tried just last week. She was sure that the 'infused' flavors and plates full of smeared sauces were exactly what skinny high-priced lawyers would crave.

She dodged traffic and hurtled through the door. The maître d' gave her plaid coat and turtleneck a look of horror.

"I'm not staying," she quickly reassured the panicked man. "I'm just looking for someone who's eating here. Danes? Luke Danes? Or maybe it's under his girlfriend's name." She suddenly felt like gagging, but she rushed on. "Except I don't know her name. Nicole something. Can you check and see if they're here?"

She could tell he wrestled for a moment about checking the list for her, but then he realized that the sooner he helped her, the sooner she'd be on her way.

"There's no one here by that name," he sniffed, having discretely looked down the list.

She gave him her blinding smile. "I promise I won't be but a minute. Would you mind if I took a quick look into the dining room, just to make sure?"

He sighed and then acquiesced by just the tiniest nod of his head. Wasting no time, she ducked into the eating area.

It took a little while for her eyes to adjust to the moody lighting, but once they did she could see Luke was not there.

"Thanks," she told the maître d' as she rushed past. "Your place is very…atmospheric. You should be very proud."

Back out on the street she took stock again. She saw a restaurant at the end of the block called _Squares_, specializing in old-fashioned comfort food. She could imagine Luke being more at home in a place like that.

"Hi," she threw at the hostess just inside the door. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. Do you mind if I take a look around for him?"

"Go ahead, dear." The matronly woman pushed up her glasses and waved her arm towards the dining area.

Lorelai quickly made the rounds of the booths and once again came up Luke-less.

This time she shivered when she got back out on the street. She was wasting time and running out of options. Her eyes fell on another restaurant, this one a chain with manufactured charm and ho-hum food. She headed for it instantly.

First date. They wouldn't go to her choice or his. They'd compromise on the one neither of them really wanted to go to. She should have known.

She had her shtick down for the hostess by now, the third time. She breezed into the dining area and relief poured through her when she spied Luke's black sweater. Her feet skimmed over the wooden floor to reach him.

"Luke! Thank God!" She was talking long before she got to their table. "The Jeep's dead and I've got to get to Boston! Can you help me?"

He wouldn't have looked at her any differently if she'd been a ghost. "Lorelai?"

"Lorelai?" That was Nicole. Her fork dropped to the table and she fixed Lorelai with a you've-got-to-be-kidding gaze. "What's she doing here?" she questioned Luke, her voice straining to remain pleasant.

"I'm sorry," Lorelai said quickly, twisting her fingers. She smiled as nicely as possible at Nicole. "My car died, and I'm really in a jam. Luke, can you help?"

Luke's eyebrows tilted together and she could tell he was trying to remain even-tempered. He opened his mouth, but Nicole cut him off.

"I'm guessing you had this all planned?" Nicole threw her napkin on the table. "What, did you call her while I was in the bathroom?"

"What?" Luke tore his shocked gaze from Lorelai to stare at Nicole. "What are you talking about?"

Nicole stood up, her spine rigid. "All you had to do was tell me the date wasn't going well. You didn't need to call in your _friend_ to save you!" She cast a sneering look over at Lorelai.

Lorelai's mouth gaped open. "Oh! Nicole, no, that's not ―"

"The date's going fine!" Luke protested. "I don't know what Lorelai's doing here but it doesn't have anything to do with us!"

"Of course not," Nicole fumed, snatching up her bag. "She just _happens_ to be at the diner when I get there, she just _happens_ to be your main topic of conversation, and now she just_ happens_ to show up here in the middle of dinner. Sorry, Mr. Danes, but the evidence tells me all I need to know!" She shoved her chair back with an angry screech against the wooden floor, then whirled around and marched towards the lobby.

"Oh, Luke." Lorelai was aghast at what was happening. "Luke, I'm so ―"

Luke jumped up. "Sit!" he ordered her. "Do not leave this table, do you hear me?" He rushed after Nicole.

Lorelai numbly sat down at what had been Nicole's place. She glanced around at all of the other diners who were trying not to stare at her.

"Um, sorry. Sorry," she said, trying to smile. "Try to pretend that this never happened. Like Richie Cunningham's older brother." She gave her arm a small twirl through the air over the table, hoping to dispel the scene she'd just caused.

She felt terrible. The last thing she'd wanted to do was intrude into Luke's date. In fact, she'd been doing her best not to even think about the fact that he was out on a date. That was just too weird to even contemplate. _Luke. Date._ The words didn't even belong together. Like _Luke_ and_ lawyer_. Like they were from two different languages.

She tucked her hair back behind her ear and stared down at the table, trying to make herself less obtrusive. If there was anyone who deserved to be out on a date, though, it was Luke. She didn't think he'd been out with anyone since Rachel had visited ― and that had been at least two years ago. She wanted Luke to find a nice girl to date. She really did. Just not this red-haired, skinny lawyer. Someday he'd thank her for bringing this date to a halt. He just didn't know it yet.

From the corner of her eye she observed that the people at the neighboring tables had all gone back to their meals, and she relaxed a little. Her eyes fell down to the untouched dessert in front of her, and she tried to restrain the sarcastic snort that wanted to explode out of her. Nicole ordered a dessert? Yeah, right. Trying to make the guy think that she didn't compulsively record every calorie from her plain vanilla yogurt on a daily basis._ Riiight._

She leaned forward and sniffed appreciatively. It _did_ smell really good. It was some sort of a crepe, with that sweet cheese in it. Mascarpone. That was it. She angled her head and looked closer. Chocolate chips were folded into the filling. And there was some sort of sauce drizzled over it and the plate. Stealthily she looked to see if anyone was watching her, then swiped her finger through the sauce.

Um, good, she thought, tasting the sauce on her finger. Bittersweet chocolate and…Grand Marnier. She nodded in approval. Hanging around with one of the premier chefs in the region had taught her a thing or two.

It seemed a shame to let such a dessert go unappreciated. She looked towards the lobby. And it _did_ seem less and less likely that Nicole was coming back to eat it.

Casually she picked up a fork. She examined the tines and ran her finger over the raised design in the handle. She circled the utensil around the edge of the plate, coming ever closer and closer to the crepe itself. Finally, with a sigh of feigned nonchalance, she cut off a bite of the dessert.

With a huff of annoyance, Luke plopped down on the seat across from her, his face a thundercloud of irritation.

She dropped the incriminating fork with a clatter and tucked her hands under her seat. "Did Nicole leave?" she asked, knowing as soon as the words left her mouth that it was the wrong thing to say.

"Yes, she left," he said in a fake-pleasant tone that made her cringe, knowing that his anger was on the way. "She seems to think that we set her up. What are you _doing_ here?" he demanded, leaning forward, his eyes blazing. "You couldn't leave me alone for one night? You tried to mess this up for me at the diner, and when that didn't work you followed me here to try again?"

"Luke, I'm truly sorry," she said, hunching her shoulders so she didn't have to meet his eyes. "I just didn't know what else to do. The Jeep died on me right in the street, and I saw your truck in the lot. Rory's at the hospital in Boston, and I'm trying to get to her, and when I saw your truck it seemed like the answer to a prayer. I'm _so_ sorry."

She chanced a quick look across the table and saw that he looked stricken, and shades paler than what he had been just moments before. She tilted her head quizzically, trying to figure out his abrupt change in attitude.

He took a deep breath before he stood up. "Come on," he said tersely, motioning for her to follow him.

She stood up obediently, and trotted after him as he found his waiter and settled the bill at the front counter. He grabbed his coat, grabbed her arm and rushed them out onto the street.

"You should have told me that at once," he scolded her, holding her arm tighter as they started walking quickly towards the lot where his truck was parked. "Which hospital?"

She began to have a really bad feeling about this, and she planted her feet, stopping him from dragging her any further under false pretenses, however innocently she may have implied them.

"_At_ the hospital, Luke. Rory's _at_ the hospital. She's not _in_ the hospital."

His eyes traveled back and forth between hers, checking her for truthfulness. Seeing it confirmed, he leaned his back against the brick wall of a bakery. He rubbed his face before he bent over slightly, putting his hands on his knees.

"Oh, God." He rubbed his face again. "Don't ever do that to me again."

"I didn't mean to." She moved to stand beside him and cautiously touched his arm. "She's at the hospital with―" her mind did a nosedive, trying to figure out how to describe Sherry "― someone," she hedged, "and that's what I said. I didn't mean to give you a heart attack about it. Really. I just have car trouble, and I need some help."

Luke was still trying to get himself calmed down. "I swear, Lorelai, you ever scare me like that again and I'll make sure you never get another cup of coffee from the diner ever."

"All right! I said I'm sorry!" she snapped. "Can we get past this, now? I need to get to Boston!" She started to drag him to the Jeep. "Come look at the car, will you? Maybe you can figure out what's wrong."

He smirked a little bit as her attempts to move him resulted in a lot of huffing and puffing from her and very little movement from him.

"Luke!" she whined.

"OK," he agreed, straightening up. "Where's the car?"

As soon as they reached the Jeep Luke pulled on the hood release, knowing where it was on her vehicle as well as on his own. "Start it up," he told her, propping open the hood and peering inside.

Lorelai dove into the Jeep as fast as she could and turned the key. Once again there was nothing but an ominous 'click,' and Luke instantly put down the hood.

"That's it?" Lorelai was stunned. "You're not even going to try to fix it?"

Luke shook his head as he made sure the hood was securely latched. "It's the fuel pump," he told her, dusting off his hands. "You're going to have to get it towed to a shop. It's not something I can fix."

"Damn!" she hissed, slapping the steering wheel. She was suddenly close to tears of frustration again, but once again she shook them off and scrambled out of the car. "Can you drop me off at the train station, then?"

"Train station?" He looked at her, not comprehending.

"Yes!" She was beyond trying to be civil and patient. "I need to get to Boston! Rory's at the hospital with ― someone, and she's alone, and scared, and she needs her Mommy and she doesn't care who knows it, and I'm going to be there with her because she needs me! If that messes up your big night with Ms. Stick-up-her-butt, I'm sorry, but I need to get to Boston! Now, are you going to help me or not?"

"I'll help you, lil' mama," a slurred voice replied.

She and Luke spun around to see two guys in their mid-twenties helping each other down the sidewalk, their TGIF celebrating obviously having gone a little overboard.

"I'll take you anywhere you wanna go," the sandy-haired one assured her, seemingly trying to wink but blinking at her owlishly instead.

"Come on, Brady," the less-impaired one urged, pulling at his friend's arm. "Sorry," he said, angling his head to see Lorelai's face as he offered the apology. One look at her had him dropping his pal's arm and standing up straight, his hand making sure his hair was still in perfectly-gelled shape. "But if we _can_ help ―"

"Got this covered. Thanks," Luke broke in, his voice laced with the snideness she heard so often. His hand circled around her arm in a way that seemed more possessive than protective. "Wouldn't want to keep you guys from your Jello shots."

Luke turned them around and started them off at a brisk pace towards his truck.

"You'll take me? Thank you! Luke, really, thank you!" she chirped as they reached the vehicle and he helped her to climb inside. "You have no idea how much this means to me!"

"Yeah, yeah," he sighed, settling himself behind the wheel.

Luke started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. Lorelai checked her phone to make sure she hadn't missed any further messages from Rory. She tucked the phone into her pocket as they turned onto another street and she bent over to peer up at the street signs overhead. She gasped in dismay.

"Wrong way!" she yelled at him. "The train station is back that way!"

His mouth tightened in disgust. "I'm not taking you to the train station. Do you really think I'm going to put you on a train to ride all the way to Boston with the same sort of drunken idiots we just encountered?"

She stared at him for a couple of beats of silence, trying to puzzle it out. "Then what are you doing?"

"Well, since my plans for the night have suddenly opened up, I thought I'd make sure you got there in one piece," he grumbled.

"You don't need to do that!" she insisted. "I don't want to be any trouble!"

"Right," he sneered. "You're never any trouble."

She flushed at that, initially from embarrassment, but that warmth was soon replaced by irritation. "All I need is to get to the station. For Rory," she reminded him, pointedly.

"And that's just what I'm doing," he fired back. "I'm getting you to Rory."

She bit back her instinct to argue with him and settled down into the old leather-trimmed seat that had long ago lost its ability to actually cushion passengers. She looked down into her lap and studied her hands. No matter how long she knew Luke, it never got easier dealing with him. Sometimes it really seemed like he couldn't stand her company. She always hoped that his sarcastic comments to her were meant to tease and not hurt, but sometimes she couldn't tell. And then, out of the blue, he'd do something so incredibly generous for her, like making her a Santaburger or driving her all the way to Boston. He'd do it with an extra helping of gruffness, of course, but he couldn't completely hide the niceness that she suspected made up the majority of his character.

Her eyes snuck over to the side and stole another glance at his profile, and to add to her irritation and confusion, her heart did that little flutter-step thing it did occasionally when confronted with his indisputable male hotness. Most of the time she was so busy sparring with him that she was able to ignore what a fine specimen of manhood he was, but tonight, seeing him in his one thousand-trillion percent off dress-up clothes and nicely shaved face, she couldn't deny the attraction. Too bad it was one-sided.

She sighed and clasped her hands, determined for one night, at least, to take the high road. "I appreciate this so much. I want you to know that." She reached over with her right hand and touched his arm. "Thank you, Luke."

He looked at her warily, but apparently caught her sincerity and gave her a brief nod before turning back to stare again at the pavement rushing at them. "It's fine," he shrugged. "Like I said, nothing else to do tonight."

She winced again at the reminder. "Luke, I am so sorry about Nicole! Somehow, I'll fix this for you. I'll call her! You've got her number, right? Right, of course you do. So I'll call her, OK? I'll explain everything. I'll make her listen. You know how persuasive I can be. So it'll be fine. I'll talk to her and she'll see ―"

"Lorelai, stop!" he barked. He took a hand off of the wheel and passed it over his face. "It doesn't matter, OK? It wouldn't have worked out anyway, so just let it drop."

"Why wouldn't it have worked?" she asked, frowning.

"Because..." He sighed and shifted uncomfortably behind the wheel. "I just don't think I'm cut out to do this whole dating/relationship/couple thing." His hand made slashes between the words. "It never feels right to me." His shoulders raised and lowered in resignation. "I just don't think I care enough."

"Luke!" she chided him, staring at him. "What do you mean, you don't care? You don't care if you end up alone?"

"I'd rather be alone than with the wrong person," he retorted. "And I can't see Nicole being the right person."

Lorelai couldn't argue with that. But still…

"How do you know? You didn't even give her a chance!"

He shook his head stubbornly. "I know. I didn't feel it. And if I didn't feel it was right, it wasn't there."

"Then why did you agree to go out with her?"

"Because she asked me."

Lorelai nearly got whiplash from her head snapping over to study him again. "She asked you? _She asked you!_ What sort of reasoning is that?"

He muttered something under his breath. "Look. Women…flirt with me, OK? So I know that I'm apparently attractive enough, right? But it's not often that I care enough to flirt back. But Nicole, _she_ came back. She asked me to go out. So I thought, why not? Why not see if this goes somewhere? But I should have stuck with my gut instinct."

She wouldn't let her gaze stray from the side of his face and he refused to look at her.

"So, women flirt with you, huh?"

His jaw tightened, and she could see he was already regretting his words.

"Who, Luke? Who are these women? Who flirts with you?" She was starting to enjoy this. "Name names, bucko! I want to know who they are! Is it Patty? Huh? Is that who flirts with you?"

He muttered something again.

"What was that? I couldn't quite hear that," she prodded him, cupping a hand around her ear as she leaned towards him.

His chin raised in satisfaction. "You, Lorelai. I said you flirt with me."

For a moment she floundered. It was the first time he'd ever called her on it. She glanced out the window while she searched for a response. Finally she turned to him with a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, I do," she agreed. When he looked over at her in surprise that she'd admitted it, her smile bloomed bigger. "And it's true. You are an attractive guy."

His shoulder closest to her jerked, as though he was trying to fend off her words. He stared straight ahead again.

"Maybe the right girl will ask you out sometime," she offered, trying to make peace.

"Maybe," he said, his voice flat. "But I wouldn't bank on it."

She started to disagree but he spoke over her. "So what's going on with Rory? Why is she in Boston?"

Now it was her turn to mutter. "Long story."

"Oh, man, it's not your dad again, is it?" Luke looked over at her with real concern on his face.

"No, it's not my Dad. He's on a business trip right now." She closed her eyes, willing herself to explain it all to Luke. "It's Sherry. Rory's there with Sherry."

"Who's Sherry?"

"Sherry is…She's Rory's dad's…She's Christopher's…Sherry."

"Oh." She could see Luke trying to figure out. "Oh!" He nodded grimly. "Her."

"Yeah," she sighed. "Her."

"Why's she in the hospital?"

"She's having a baby."

He tried to absorb that. "But why's Rory there?"

She was suddenly so tired. "Because the baby's her sister."

He made a face and looked away.

She chuckled bitterly. "Wow, you and my Mom would make quite a pair. She doesn't think Rory has any business being there, either."

"No, it's not that," Luke said quickly. "I get _why_ she's there. It's just weird to me, to think of Rory having some other family. I mean, to me, _you're_ her family. It seems wrong that anybody else could be a part of her, or has a claim on her, you know? I guess it shows how dumb I am, but somehow I never really thought about the fact that Christopher is her father, and that he has some sort of right to her. Or that she'd want to be involved in his life." He shrugged and shook his head. "Sorry. I don't know why this should be such a surprise to me."

"It's OK." She shrugged too. "Sometimes it smacks me upside of the head too, when he calls and she's eager to talk to him. Or something big happens in her life and she wants to make sure he knows. I forget sometimes, too."

"So we've established why Rory's there." She could feel him cautiously looking over at her. "So why are you going there?"

"Because apparently Sherry has no family around and all of her idiot friends have deserted her for their corner office jobs. Christopher is out of town and no one's been able to reach him, and Rory ― my brave, sensitive kid, who always wants to do the right thing ― is the only one there with her." Lorelai sat up in her seat and reached forward, pressing her hands against the dusty glove box. "Rory's terrified, but she's determined to be there for Sherry, and she needs me there. She's alone, and she's scared, and she needs me, Luke."

He looked at her with understanding. "That's a good enough reason for me."

"Good." She leaned back and let the faded headrest cradle her head. For some miles she sat silently, gathering up the strength she was sure she'd need before the night was over. Soon enough she felt like talking again. Especially to Luke, who she knew would actually listen to her.

"Being with my Mom tonight at their house and thinking about Christopher having another baby really brought back some fond old memories," she began sarcastically.

Luke looked over at her, which was enough of a response for her to continue.

"I was remembering what it was like, the day I told them I was pregnant."

"That had to be hard." His voice was casual but sympathetic.

She stared up at the liner that was starting to sag away from the truck's roof. "In some ways it wasn't any different than the million other things I'd already done to disappoint them. It was just further proof that I wasn't the daughter they wanted. Just proof that I'd screwed up yet again." She snorted a laugh. "Literally."

"Lorelai," he reproved her.

"That wasn't the worst night, though," she continued, her eyes flitting around the cab. "The worst was when Christopher's parents came over so all of the 'adults' could talk about the 'situation.'" She sat up, agitated. "His mother wouldn't stop crying. His father didn't understand why I wouldn't get rid of 'it.'"

She heard Luke inhale sharply. "Bastard," he muttered, not quite under his breath, making her smile in spite of herself.

"Then my father proclaimed that he had the solution. 'They will get married. They will live here. Christopher will join my firm,'" she said, doing a passable imitation of Richard's deep voice. "All he wanted was to save face. He didn't care what we wanted, or what was best for us, he just wanted to make it all go away."

"I guess I can understand that," Luke observed quietly.

"Christopher and I were huddled together on the landing in the stairs, listening to all of it. Nobody was asking us what we wanted to do. They were planning out our lives and we had no say in it at all."

"I'm sure you took that really well."

She grinned over at him, and after a moment he looked over and caught her eye, the slightest of smiles on his mouth, too.

"I had a million plans," she told him. "I could think of a million ways to make it work. But Christopher sat there and thought our parents were right. He was perfectly OK with doing whatever they told us to do." She rubbed her palms over her legs. "I should have realized right then that we weren't as much alike as I thought we were. I should have realized that maybe we weren't right together after all." She looked over at him, and he looked at her rather sadly, she thought. "Instead it took me about 17 more years before I understood that."

They were silent for a moment, and then Luke leaned over, his sturdy hand cupping over her knee in the most tender of touches, offering sympathy or maybe understanding, or maybe just an acknowledgement of their friendship.

"Let's get you to Boston," he suggested, clamping both hands back around the wheel and putting his foot down.

"Whether I want to or not," she said matter-of-factly as the old green Chevy roared through the night.


	2. Having Fun

**Author's Notes:** When I wrote this story I found out that it wasn't a chore to add Luke into it at all. In fact, it was so easy that it seemed like he was meant to be in it all along! (Again, please note that some of the dialogue is taken directly from the episode. I had to quote the phlegm line for sure ― it's one of my favorites!)

* * *

Lorelai spotted the blue and white sign first.

"Next block," she told Luke. "Turn right."

The medical complex came into view and Lorelai's eyes dashed from one informational sign to the next, trying to make sense of the directions.

"Just pull up into that drive," she directed him. "I'll jump out, and ― Uh, what are you doing?"

"Parking," Luke said succinctly, rolling down the window to grab the ticket for the parking garage.

"You don't need to do this!" she tried to convince him. "You've done your duty. Just drop me off and go back home!"

Luke scoffed, but was too busy looking for a spot big enough to hold the truck to glance over at her. "I drop you off, and then what happens? You and Rory head for the train station or the bus at some godforsaken hour of the night? I'm supposed to sleep while you're sharing a bench with winos and other assorted crazies? No, thank you!" He angled into a spot just a little bit larger than the others and shut off the motor. "This way at least I'll know you have a safe way home."

They jumped out of the truck and started over to the hospital walkway. "You don't need to come in," Lorelai quickly told him, still trying to make his night somehow better. "Why don't you go find a nice restaurant to wait in, or a bar, or ― or go to a movie, or something? You hate hospitals! You don't have to wait here all night."

"I'm here now," he pointed out, resigned. "I'll just stay. How long can it be, anyway?"

Lorelai's head snapped up and she smothered a giggle. "Man, you don't have a clue how these things work, do you?"

The door opened automatically for them and they entered the busy lobby. They dodged children running off nervous energy, wheelchairs, and dozens of helium-filled balloons held by an assortment of visitors waiting by the elevators. Lorelai scanned over the directory showcased there.

"I do hate hospitals," Luke agreed grimly, taking a sniff of the air suspiciously.

Lorelai looked up quickly enough to see what looked like pain clustered in the lines between his eyes. Sudden sympathy made her want to baby him but she smothered that instinct, knowing he'd hate it.

"You and Rory can commiserate," she told him. "I got an earful on the phone already about how disgusting hospitals are. She said she's already seen more bare behinds than she can count."

An elevator door opened and they stepped inside, squishing together to make room for everyone else who'd been waiting. Lorelai leaned forward, making sure that the button for the maternity floor had been pushed.

Luke grabbed her arm, suddenly looking alarmed. "Am I even allowed up there? I mean, I'm not family or anything."

"It'll be fine," she assured him. The man stuffed in beside her chose that moment to turn to his side to dig through a canvas bag and that pushed her hip into Luke's. She put a hand against his chest to stop herself from tumbling completely into him and unexpectedly found herself mentally reviewing all of the other 'moments' that had been shared between them over the years. "You're just fine," she said slowly, the words loaded with enough warmth to cause embarrassment when she heard them. She cleared her throat and tried to somehow compress herself, to make some space between them.

The elevator doors opened and good portion of the riders got off. A man in a bright red jacket held open the door for an orderly to maneuver a wheelchair inside the space. Once again Lorelai had to cozy up against Luke to make room.

The orderly got the wheelchair into position and one of those sudden hushes fell over everyone left in the confined space. In the abrupt silence, _Moon River_ ended and the next piece of muzak began. The first notes were enough to make Lorelai wrap her arms around her stomach. She fought her impulse to bend over in distress.

"Are you OK?" Luke touched her shoulder and she tried to nod, but in the next instant he had one arm around her shoulder while the other wrapped around hers in front., as if he thought he was going to have to hold her upright. "Seriously, are you OK? I'm the one who's supposed to feel sick in hospitals, but you're looking kind of greenish-gray here."

"It's just the music," she admitted grudgingly. "Just a reaction I have. Kind of like Pavlov's dogs." She slowly drew her head back and tried to take a gulp of air, keeping her eyes closed. She opened them, shuddered, and tried to make a joke. "Can you believe that we're old enough for them to turn the music of our youth into muzak?"

Luke tipped an ear towards the ceiling speakers until he recognized _99 Red Balloons._ "Didn't that thing start out as elevator music?" he asked disdainfully.

Lorelai tried to put on a smile, even though phantom cramps were still haunting her mid-section. "I loved it. I played it all the time. That's what was on my Walkman the night Rory was born. I remember listening to it the whole time I was waiting for them to take me to my room. The second I got done filling out all of those medical forms I shoved the headphones back on so that I could block out where I really was. For just a couple more minutes I wanted to pretend I was just a normal teenager."

He looked at her strangely and slowly removed his arm from around her shoulders. "They let you fill out the forms? You were just a kid."

For some reason his words made her defensive. "Well, it was me or nobody. And it's amazing how mature people think you are when you've got a stomach stretched out to here." She motioned with her arms about three feet out in front of her, further dislodging his protective stance.

"Alone?" he challenged her. "They let you come to the hospital alone?"

"No one was home," Lorelai explained, not really wanting to remember it. "I was watching _Quincy_ when the contractions started. Did you watch that? I loved it, but I always hated how they had to bundle up all of the explanations into the last five minutes of the show. It always felt so rushed, like they forgot they only had an hour to solve the crime."

Luke was staring down at the linoleum on the floor. He looked like he was counting to 10. "You brought yourself to the hospital," he stated, keeping his voice even.

"Well, it was time," Lorelai said airily.

"You filled out the papers. You sat alone in the waiting room." Lorelai could hear the rant building.

"Somebody had to." Her eyes had been locked on the numbers of the floors, urging them to get to their destination. With relief she watched the doors open on maternity. "This is it," she said, leading the way, and hoped he'd let the topic drop.

She shook off that scared 16-year-old girl she'd once been and left her in the elevator along with the song. A whole other lifetime had passed since that night of terrifying pain and confusion. Rory's lifetime.

Luke's arm caught her elbow and made her turn around and face him. "You shouldn't have been alone." His eyes were dark blue with determination and they drilled into hers. "You shouldn't have had to do that."

She tried to play it off, even though his compassion meant more to her than he could imagine. "Long time ago, Luke." She forced a grin and patted his arm. "Doesn't matter anymore."

She could tell he was pumped to say more, but she escaped and stepped over to the nurse's station. "Excuse me, Sherry Tinsdale's room?"

"Right through there," the nurse nodded.

"Thanks," Lorelai said, but before she'd taken more than two steps a plaid whirlwind intercepted her.

"Mom!"

"Hey!" Relieved, she bent to kiss her daughter on her cheek, most of her anxiety fleeing as they were reunited.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Rory gratefully chanted.

"You're welcome, and I'll be holding this over your head for the next 10 years." She frowned at the armload of papers Rory was cradling in her arms. "What are you doing?"

"Xeroxing," Rory said distractedly. She finally noticed the other figure in the dark leather jacket, who seemed to be trying to disappear behind her mother. "Luke?"

"Hey, Rory." He nodded, but the smile he tried to put on his face looked more like a grimace.

"What are you ―" Her quick eyes flashed between the strangely dapper Mr. Danes and her still on-edge mother. "Were you ―?"

"The Jeep decided to have a nervous breakdown tonight," Lorelai cut in, before Rory could misconstrue anything. "Luke played taxi driver for me."

"Aw, Luke, thank you!" Rory jostled her papers to one side and stepped over to give him a quick and awkward one-armed hug. "Is the Jeep really bad?" she then asked her mom.

"Well, let's just say that Gypsy will probably be able to afford a trip to Atlantic City soon and we won't."

"It might not be that bad." Luke uncharacteristically tried to be optimistic.

"What's with the Xeroxing?" Lorelai asked, tugging at the stack of papers.

"Sherry had these status reports to fax to people by tonight but she didn't bring enough. I've been trying to find a Xerox machine and I finally conned someone in ICU to let me use theirs." Rory's voice had sped up and Lorelai recognized the single-mindedness of purpose creeping in that normally accompanied her focus on her schoolwork. "I haven't found a fax machine yet," she fretted.

"Ohh-kay," Lorelai said, drawing the word out. "Come on." She put her hand on Rory's shoulder and started to ease over towards Sherry's door.

"But I have to fax these!" Rory protested.

"Uh huh," Lorelai said soothingly, her hand on the door.

"But we have a deadline!"

Lorelai pulled open the door and they all took in Sherry's squatting position on top of the bed as she talked a mile a minute on the phone. Rory and Lorelai shared a look of incredulity.

"I'm gonna stay right here," Luke murmured, and flattened himself against the hallway wall by the door.

"Yes, I'm having them faxed over right now," Sherry said, her voice just barely contained on this side of hysteria. "I'm not sure that the numbers I have are the numbers you have. That's right, that's bad." She took the hand that had been pressing over her stomach and waved it at Lorelai. "I think you should too." She put her hand over the phone and spoke rapidly to Rory. "Did you get those things faxed?"

"Sherry, hang up," Lorelai suggested, her voice calm.

"I have to finish this call!"

"Just say goodbye."

"But ―"

Lorelai stepped closer, trying to keep a reassuring smile on her face. "Call him back," she urged. She reached out and took the phone away. "Sherry's going to have to call you back," she said into the mouthpiece, shrugging. "I promise. Goodbye," she said, closing the phone and putting it out of Sherry's reach.

"But that was work!" Sherry protested, her wispy white-blonde curls bobbing around her face.

"Sherry, you really shouldn't be working _right_ now," Lorelai pointed out to the crazy lady, as gently as she could.

Sherry trembled while she continued to balance on her ankles, her silky white robe rustling around her. "I just can't stop everything because I'm ―"

"― Having a baby," Lorelai said, supplying the words for her. "Admitting it is the first step."

"I'm not ready!" Sherry said, desperately. The diamond in her engagement ring flashed as she clutched at her distended middle. "I had it all planned. Christopher was supposed to be here!"

Something remembered caught in Lorelai's throat. "I know," she said, gently.

"I don't know what to do!"

"The first thing is to calm down and stop working," Lorelai's voice was firm.

"OK," Sherry capitulated, not putting up too much of a fight.

"And the second thing you need to tell me is why you are sitting like that."

Sherry looked at her seriously. "Maureen told me that Howard Stern said that squatting makes the baby come out faster."

Lorelai suddenly had an inkling of what it was like to be on the receiving end of some of the nonsense she spouted. "OK. As long as you have a sane reason from a reliable source."

Sherry's already milk-white complexion became even paler. "I'm scared," confessed.

"I know." Lorelai could barely believe how much sympathy she was feeling for the still perfectly-coiffed woman in front of her. "It's scary and it hurts like hell. And remember, when it comes out, don't look at it too hard until they give it a good cleaning or you'll think you gave birth to phlegm. But once they give it a scrub it's just unbelievably cool."

"Yeah?" Sherry asked wistfully.

"And look how good they grow up." She motioned over at her daughter standing on the other side of the bed, giving her a warm, proud smile. "Not bad, huh?"

Rory smiled, basking in her mother's approval. She kept her arms crossed over her chest and looked down modestly.

Sherry looked over in awe at Rory. "I hope I get that lucky," she said fervently.

"I've got a good feeling," Lorelai observed, starting to pick up the planners and notebooks spread open on the foot of the bed.

"Thank you," Sherry said, sounding calmer.

Lorelai continued to smile while she found room on the window ledge for all of the business stuff that was no longer needed.

"Lorelai?" Sherry's voice sounded worried, and Lorelai turned back at once.

"Yeah?"

"My ankles are starting to hurt."

"OK," Lorelai reached for her quickly. "Here. Grab an arm," she instructed Rory, and the two of them eased Sherry back into bed.

"I'm glad you're here," Sherry sighed in relief, leaning her head back gratefully on the pillows.

"At this moment you probably should be," Lorelai said, not able to keep just a touch of bitterness from creeping back in.

She and Rory pulled the blankets up over Sherry as the mother-to-be wiggled her feet under the covers, getting circulation going again. Sherry groaned in relief and put her hand up over the top of her head.

"So who's that?" Sherry asked almost immediately, her voice once again sounding too perky for her current situation.

"Who?" Lorelai asked.

"The man standing out there." Sherry pointed out the door.

"Oh, that's ― that's ―" Damn! The woman didn't miss a thing!

"That's Luke," Rory said, tossing a small look of anxiety at her mother.

"Luke!" Sherry turned to Rory and dropped her voice to a sharing-secrets level. "Who's Luke?" she asked.

Rory gave Lorelai another worried look, but she answered Sherry anyway. "You know who Luke is. He owns the diner in Stars Hollow."

Sherry's wide-open eyes grew even wider. "I knew it! I_ told_ Christopher there was something going on with you two!"

"Hold on now." Lorelai hastened to correct her assumption. "He played Good Samaritan and gave me a ride here tonight, that's all."

Sherry sat herself up a little bit more. "Bring him in. I want to say hello," she instructed.

"Oh, Sherry, that's probably not a good idea," Lorelai said, trying to nip that idea in the bud.

"Luke's really not much for social situations," Rory added, trying to save her diner man.

"Nonsense! He can come in for two seconds, can't he? Rory, just ask him to step inside, will you, please?"

"I don't ― Mom?" Rory looked to her mother for guidance.

"Oh, boy." Lorelai blew out a breath. "Hang on."

Reconciled to what was going to happen, she stepped out into the hall. Luke was still standing precisely where they'd left him, his feet planted immovably on the floor, his eyes fixed on a spot between his shoes.

She touched his arm. "You're being summoned."

He jumped and his head shot up, looking at her carefully as though making sure it was really her. "What are you talking about?"

She didn't see any need to sugarcoat it. "Sherry wants to see you."

"No." His response was immediate. "No way!"

"It won't be that bad," she started to wheedle, ignoring the way his head was emphatically shaking at her and the industrial-strength frown. "She knows you're out here and she just wants to say hi."

"No!"

"Luke, come on!" She started pulling on his sleeve, which she knew would annoy him even if it didn't make him move. "She's perfectly decent, all covered up in bed, and it hasn't gotten to the point where she's screaming and cussing out the whole male half of the population yet. It'll be fine."

"Lorelai, I _swear_…" he started, sounding irritated, but then he pushed away from the wall, much to her surprise, and let her lead him into the room.

Rory's eyebrows arched up when she saw him enter the doorway. "Wow," she mouthed to her mother.

Lorelai grinned at her, then took another step towards the bed. "Sherry, this is Luke."

They watched as Sherry swiftly scanned over Luke, cataloging the leather jacket, the pants, the deep blue eyes. Her hand automatically checked her hair before she offered it to him. "Hi, I'm Sherry Tinsdale. Soon to be Sherry Hayden. And this will soon be Georgia Hayden," she explained, her other hand patting her stomach as she smiled energetically at him.

He sighed and stepped forward, taking Sherry's hand, and Lorelai grinned again. She knew he was too polite to snub the pregnant lady.

"Nice to meet you." He shifted his feet. "Hope tonight goes smoothly for you," he offered, and then flushed slightly, as though worried that was the wrong thing to say.

Sherry beamed at him. "Well, aren't you sweet!" Her voice hitched into an even higher register. "I hear you're responsible for getting Lorelai here tonight."

Luke looked over at her and his steady gaze locked onto hers._ 'I'd do anything for her,'_ she heard his gruff voice say in her head, as clearly as if he'd spoken the words out loud. Her heart stuttered again and a chill chased across her shoulders. By the time the roaring in her ears subsided she wasn't sure how much of the real conversation she'd missed.

"I can't believe how much better I feel, just knowing she's here to help me through this," Sherry was simpering to him.

"It's always good to have Lorelai on your side during a crisis," Luke replied, "even if she was the one who caused the crisis in the first place."

"Gee, thanks," Lorelai replied, still feeling somewhat flustered. "Sherry, I'm going to step out for a little bit and get Luke settled in the waiting area, OK?"

"Oh, of course! Thanks again, Luke!" Sherry's hand fluttered a goodbye.

Lorelai nodded at the threatening look Rory was giving her, the look that meant _'Don't you dare leave me alone in here!'_ as she escorted Luke out.

She noticed that both of them inhaled a huge breath of relief when they gained the hallway.

"So that's Sherry, huh?" Luke commented.

"That's her, all right."

"Not what I was expecting."

That made her glance at him, surprised, while they walked to the cluster of couches and chairs at the end of the hall. "What's that mean? You _have_ seen her once before, you know."

"I guess they were in the diner that time, but I don't have any actual memory of her or what she looked like."

"So? What did you think she'd look like?"

He shrugged as they scouted out the waiting area. "I figured she'd look like you."

"Like me?" She stopped and laughed at the idea. "Why would you think she'd look like me?"

Luke pretended to be interested in the CNN feed on the wall-mounted TV. "I just figured that he'd pick out somebody else who reminded him of you."

Lorelai chuckled again. "You think that I'm imprinted on him? You think that because of me he's predisposed to only fall in love with brunettes?"

"It happens," Luke argued.

"It does, huh? So how about you? Do you have a type?" She began to needle him for fun when suddenly Rachel and Nicole flashed through the viewing screen in her head and she gasped. "Oh my god. You do. You totally do. And I…feel really stupid right now. Although that explains a lot."

"I do not have a type," he muttered.

"Yeah, you do," she said lightly, although the words seemed to be sticking in her suddenly dry throat. "You like skinny, ambitious, strawberry-blondes."

"Where do you _get_ this stuff?" Luke asked, exasperated.

Lorelai found a little poise and hid behind it. "Just look at the similarities between Rachel and Nicole, and tell me I'm wrong. Although I do think Rachel got Nicole's helping of sweetness."

Luke opened his mouth to dispute her, but closed it abruptly. "That's not fair," he finally groused.

"But true," she added, wondering what part he thought wasn't fair.

"Only in your insane mind," he shot back. "And so what does it explain?"

"It explains why you've never tried ―" she choked off her words just in time. "Never mind. Here, let's get you comfy." She pushed him into a mauve armchair and tried to put his feet up on a coffee table, but he was having none of it. She snagged some magazines off a rack above his shoulder.

"This _Women's Day_ looks older than Rory, so probably it's right up your alley." She handed him the crumpled magazine. "But, ooh! Look at that! Shortcake recipes! You should totally study those," she told him, nodding her head seriously.

"Too early for strawberries," Luke groused.

"Well, then, here." She thrust an equally-wrinkled issue of _Cosmopolitan_ at him. "You can learn how to give him the most amazing night ev-ah!"

Luke's eyes tracked over the headlines on the cover, widening when he reached the one she'd quoted. He tossed it immediately onto the table, face-down. His scowling had reached new heights.

"And if that doesn't satisfy you…" She put her hand under his chin and gently tugged his face towards the TV playing on the other side of the room. "I'll leave you in Captain Kirk's capable hands."

"Shows you what you know," he scoffed. "This is _Next Generation,_ not the original series. This is Captain Picard."

She took a step back, her face glowing like she'd just won the lottery. She bent from the waist, towards him. "Trekkie," she stage-whispered, gloating

Luke sighed. "Don't you have a birthing to attend?" he asked pointedly.

Her good mood evaporated. "Yeah." She looked down the hall to the room of perky. "Here, watch my coat, OK?" She took it off and dropped it onto the chair next to him before forcing her feet to carry her back to Sherry.

She turned back when she stepped into the hallway, just to make sure he was settled. He was flipping through the pages of the _Women's Day,_ and he stopped on a page that surely did look like it was wreathed in strawberries. Oddly content, she entered Sherry's room, happier than she had any right to be under the circumstances.

* * *

By the time the girls entered the waiting room over an hour later, Captain Picard ― with Data's help, of course ― had once again saved the Enterprise, and currently on-screen Captain Janeway was bravely trying to get Voyager home.

"She's jogging in place!" Lorelai exploded at him.

"What?" Luke sounded skeptical.

"We think she's trying to aerobicize the baby out," Rory speculated.

Luke looked from Rory's concerned face to Lorelai's frustrated one. "Shouldn't you try to stop her?"

"I did!" Lorelai insisted. "She almost took an eye out!"

"It can't be good for the baby," Rory fretted.

Lorelai scoffed. "It's no worse than the guilt trip it'll get for showing up early."

"You do know it's a girl," Rory reminded her gently.

"Yes," Lorelai pouted. She looked down at her feet for a moment. "I should probably stop calling her 'it.'" She gave a sigh and looked back up. "Did you try calling your dad again?"

"Over and over and over." Rory dug her phone of her pocket and looked at the display again. "It's out of range, or not in service or something."

"You do know, if he doesn't get here, _I_ have to go in with her!" Lorelai fumed.

"Yes, I do," Rory agreed without reservation.

"I don't wanna go in with her!" Lorelai said crossly.

"Well, at least you know what's going to happen," Rory pointed out.

"Not really," Lorelai grumbled. "I had the cheap seat before. My view was quite a bit different."

"Maybe Dad will still show up," the ever-optimistic girl hoped. She looked around at the waiting area. "I'm going to go down to the other end of the hall. There are vending machines there. You want me to bring you something? Luke?"

"I'm fine," Luke said.

"Coffee!" Lorelai begged. She watched the braid trailing down her daughter's back swing back and forth as Rory quickly set off down the hallway in pursuit of snacks. When she turned to Luke, ready to pepper him with _Star Trek_ questions, she saw resentment simmering on his face.

"I'm sorry," she quickly said soothingly, folding herself onto the chair beside him. "I know this has been a rotten night for you."

He swiftly turned to confront her. "Why do _you_ have to do it?"

"Do what?" She reviewed her words, trying to figure out what she'd said to tick him off.

"Why do _you_ have to go in with her?" He bit the words off.

"Because she's terrified," Lorelai muttered, all at once feeling too tired to try and speak distinctly. "She's alone, and scared out of her mind."

"Who was with you?" he demanded, testing her.

She crossed her arms and didn't answer.

"That's what I thought." He flung his arm out in the general direction of Sherry's room. "Where was _he_ then, huh?"

She was too tired; too drained for this fight. "He was just a kid," she explained, used to making excuses for him.

Luke looked like he wanted to kill somebody. "So were you!" he said angrily.

His indignation on her behalf made unexpected tears fill up her eyes, because she could still remember the weakness and the fear she refused to succumb to all those years ago. She instantly clamped her lips shut and turned away, but he responded quicker than she could deflect.

"Geez, Lorelai, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

His warm, strong arms wrapped around her. His brusque voice murmured next to her ear. "Last thing I wanted to do was make you cry. I'm sorry."

She blinked hard and saw Rory coming back down the hall. There were some things her daughter didn't need to know, so she squared her shoulders and turned back around; replacing his sympathetic arm with a bravery she hadn't really felt on the night Rory was born. "Oh, I wasn't alone. The nurse was wheeling me into delivery, and I was begging her to let me hit her, or pinch her, or use the Epilady on her because I thought that might make me feel better, and guess who shows up? My parents!"

"Not this again," Rory groused. She handed her mother a paper cup of coffee and gave Luke an apple before she sat down on the chair on the other side of him.

He looked at the apple as if it was causing his confusion. "What's an Epilady?"

"According to my mother, it was an instrument of torture devised in the '80's to rip hair out of women's legs," Rory informed him, pulling a Snickers bar out of her pocket and tearing off the wrapper.

Lorelai nodded vigorously. "I thought that seeing someone else hurting might make my pain feel better, but the nurse said no, I couldn't hit her or pinch her or use the Epilady on her. And then, just to add to my pain, there's my mother screeching at me because I'd deprived her of what was apparently her right to drive me to the hospital."

"And Grandpa couldn't walk, because he'd worn the wrong shoes," Rory said, getting the words out around the caramel and peanuts she was chewing. "His feet hurt."

"You remember it, do you?" Luke asked her, straight-faced.

She rolled her eyes. "This is all part of my birth story, Luke. Mom's told me a thousand times. Grandma wouldn't stop yelling at Mom, and Grandpa couldn't get Grandma to stop and let him sit down. Grandma said, 'You're having a baby, do you realize that, Lorelai?' and Mom said 'Well that explains the stomachache.' Then Grandma demanded to go into the delivery room, but the nurse wouldn't let her."

"At that moment, that nurse was my favorite person in the world," Lorelai chimed in. "Hey, maybe I should have named you after her."

Luke ignored Lorelai's flippant remark and instead fixed her with another one of those looks that tonight seemed to see clear into her soul. "So you _were_ alone."

Lorelai's chin tipped up. She leaned across him and grasped her daughter's hand. "Not for long," she said, smiling at Rory. "I was soon joined by the most beautiful baby in the world."

"And we're off," Rory sighed in resignation. She patted Luke's hand in empathy before she shoved the rest of her candy bar into her mouth.

"No," Lorelai said, pretending to be miffed. "If you don't want to hear about the night of your glorious birth, I won't bore you."

"Thank you," Luke said with feeling.

Still chewing, Rory reached over Luke for Lorelai's coffee.

His face looked agonized while he watched the girl take a big gulp. He raised his eyes to the ceiling. "The only reason I'm not pointing out the fact that it's nearly midnight and you're letting her eat candy and drink coffee is because of where we are and what's going on tonight."

"Aw, Luke, you old softie," Rory teased him, bumping her shoulder into his.

"Just eat your apple, Butch," Lorelai recommended, patting his other shoulder as she stood up. She held out a hand to Rory. "As much as I hate to say it, we should probably get back in there with her. Who know what she's trying by now."

"She could be bouncing on a trampoline," Rory agreed, standing as well.

"Hush! Don't let her hear you!" Lorelai cautioned as they dragged themselves back up the hall.

In just a few minutes, however, they were heading back to the waiting area. Luke jumped up, alarmed to see them again so soon, and met them in the hallway.

"What's wrong?" he asked, throwing his half-eaten apple into the trash.

"The nurse is just in there, checking her," Lorelai explained. She could tell he didn't really understand by the quizzical look on his face. "You know, to see how dilated she is. To see if she's ―"

"OK, OK," he jumped in, holding up his hand. "I get it."

"Do you think we should get a camera?" Rory suddenly piped up.

"No," Lorelai said.

"A camera?" Luke questioned, looking from one to the other.

"Yeah, in case Dad doesn't get here in time," Rory continued.

"No," Lorelai said, firmly.

"But ―" Rory protested.

"No," Lorelai said, her tone set in concrete.

"I just thought it might be nice," Rory pointed out, taking on the mature role.

"It might be nice," Luke chimed in, but he sounded cranky, like he hated to agree.

Lorelai sighed and tried to find a little bit more benevolence in her heart but before she could search too deeply, the elevator doors opened again.

"Lor! Rory!"

A panicked Christopher stampeded over to them. His frantic hands grabbed at her, pulling her close to kiss her cheek, and then he quickly gave Rory a hug.

"Am I too late? Did I miss it?"

"Oh, Chris! Thank God! Perfect timing!" Lorelai was nearly giddy with relief.

"I thought sure I was going to miss it. I must've broken about 18 different laws getting here. I don't even remember where I parked my car," Christopher spoke fast, his nerves on edge.

"Well, take a breath. You didn't miss anything. Sherry's going to be thrilled," Lorelai smiled at him.

"Where? Here?" He followed his beaming daughter as she opened the door to Sherry's room.

Lorelai was about to follow but Luke stepped in front of her.

"He _kissed_ you!" he hissed, scandalized.

She did a double-take, not able to believe that of all the things going on at the moment, this was the one he wanted to discuss. "Yeah, he did," she shrugged, trying to sidestep away from him and get into the room.

"And you're OK with that?" he demanded, anger warming his words. "You're OK that he just grabs you and kisses you?"

"Yes, I am," she said crisply. "He's an old friend, Luke. He's Rory's dad. Yeah, it's OK." Although...actually it wasn't. It made her feel abandoned and a little sleazy every time he did it.

"Well, he shouldn't," Luke grumbled, but he stepped out of her way and she joined the surplus of people in the hospital room.

"Yes, this is him! This is my Christopher!" Sherry was joyfully proclaiming. Apparently the last nurse's check had been a positive one, because the bed was now mobile, beginning the journey to delivery.

"Christopher, are you coming in with us?" the nurse asked him.

"Try and stop me!" He still sounded dazed. His eyes were locked on Sherry's face as he held her hand tightly and stroked her arm.

"Let's go then," the nurse ordered, and the bed started to move.

"We'll be right here, waiting," Rory happily proclaimed.

"Have fun," Lorelai suggested, a little smugly.

Rory turned to her mom as the bed disappeared out the door, her face scrunching in displeasure. "_Have fun?_" she questioned, her voice disapproving.

"Weeell," Lorelai said, channeling Samantha Stevens.

They collected their stuff from the room and joined Luke on the other side of the door. He took Rory's backpack from off her shoulder and the three of them headed to the waiting area.

"Now we wait?" Rory asked, looking around at the nearly empty seats.

"Now we wait," Lorelai confirmed. She gave Rory's shoulders a squeeze.

Rory zipped open the backpack Luke was still carrying and pulled out a text. She nodded to him in thanks and then settled herself at a desk pushed into a corner.

Lorelai watched Rory open her textbook and smiled indulgently. With a tired sigh she shuffled between some chairs and sat down gratefully.

Luke took his time sitting down across from her. His body language suggested he couldn't get comfortable. He tried to settle back against the seat, then he hunched forward, clasping his hands out over his knees. It wasn't until he tentatively reached across the narrow aisle and touched her knee that she realized he had something to say.

When she looked at him, he cleared his throat. "If you're angry right now, it's OK. If you want to pick a fight with me, or yell, or do something crazy, I'll understand."

"I'm not angry," she said, puzzled.

He chewed his lip and looked away momentarily, but his grip on her knee stayed firm. "You should be." His head motioned back towards what had been Sherry's room. "You got cheated out of all of that. It wasn't right that you had to go through all of that alone."

Once again his gruff understanding was threatening to topple the elaborate mythology she'd held in place with brute force for more than 17 years. She couldn't let it unravel now. Especially not tonight.

She looked over at her daughter who was already caught up in whatever spell that particular book had over her. She looked back at Luke, meeting his concerned gaze with confidence as her chin told him to look over at Rory.

"I didn't get cheated out of anything," she told him with heartfelt sincerity, when his eyes turned back to her.

He studied her solemnly before he spoke. "Rory's great, Lorelai. And the reason she's great is because of you. She's who she is because of you." He gave her knee a rough pat, as though he'd finally realized how Dr. Phil-ish he sounded. "I just hope you're proud of that, because you should be."

"I am." She gave him a strained smile and then scooted forward in her chair, letting her eyes close while her head rested back against the seat, signaling the end of the conversation. She didn't think she was up for more reminiscing right now about the good old days.

Through half-lidded eyes she watched as he stretched out in his chair too, his long legs crossed at the ankle and finding a home under the chair next to hers. Stealthily she studied his hair, so rarely seen without the baseball cap. She studied the lines of his muscles exposed by the fine knit of the black sweater she'd chosen for him back when she'd convinced herself that he should try harder with Rachel. She traced over his mouth with her eyes, wondering how it was that the few words he chose to say could be so soothing.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight, not wanting to obsess over the man sitting across from her. She needed to think of something else. Exhausted, she let her mind drift.

_...In the kitchen with Sookie. Both of them laughing. Baker's chocolate being crumbled with a big knife; Sookie's hands firm on the blade as it glittered in the light. She grabbed a piece and popped it in her mouth before Sookie sent the rest of it into a double-boiler. More laughter. Jokes. Teasing. Then, she somehow managed to glance into the copper pot at just the right moment, right when the solid chocolate liquefied and turned into something else…_

She pressed a hand over her nervous stomach. Just like the chocolate, her feelings and friendship for Luke had changed tonight from one thing into another. Instead of being antagonistic buddies and sharing a solid appreciation for each other, her gut and her fluttery heart were now telling her there was something more. Something different. Her always-odd friendship with this peculiar man had liquefied into something else. Something that was turning her warm and wanting. And scared. And very confused. And worried. Oh-so-worried.

_No,_ she firmly told herself. _No, you are not doing this. Do you hear me?_

But her mind wasn't listening. It was rapidly overturning one of her most steadfast rules, the one that stated she would never, ever, under any circumstances _ever_ change anything about herself for a guy. Her brain was too busy picturing how she'd look as a strawberry-blonde to pay any attention to the warning at all.


	3. Baby Stories

**This was my original Author's Note for this chapter, and it still holds true! ** The process of writing isn't exactly akin to doing the splits on top of a keg of dynamite. Most of the time it's more like slitting open a vein and hoping that the right words manage to drip out. This story, however, and especially this chapter, wasn't like that at all. Writing this has been a glorious experience. It was almost as if the words were waiting to leap up on their own when my fingers touched the keyboard. It was a joy and a pleasure to write, and instead of the relief I usually feel when a story's completed, I'm feeling bereft. Thanks again for your enthusiastic response to this story ― that's what keeps me going!

* * *

Rory made a little snuffling sound in her sleep and Lorelai lovingly smoothed back a few loose strands of the girl's shiny brown hair. She adored that sound. She remembered pressing Rory's tiny but perfect body up against her shoulder a few hours after she was born and hearing her make that same snuffle then, her newborn eyes shut tight against the bright lights of the new world.

She gave up trying to read a book she'd excavated from Rory's backpack. She put the book face-down on her knee and pulled her coat up a little higher over her sleeping daughter.

Her eyes then drifted over to Luke. He'd stretched his long frame out over the couch that mirrored the one she and Rory were on. He'd folded up that stylish leather jacket and was using it as a pillow under his head. He'd been lying perfectly still, but she didn't believe he was really asleep.

Her breath caught in the back of her throat as she realized she'd been calculating if she could fit on the couch with him. She wondered if he'd turn and make room for her, his arms circling behind her to make sure she wouldn't fall off. She could almost feel the way her head would fit tucked against his chest.

_God, where was this stuff coming from?_ Annoyed, she picked the book back up, shaking off her daydreams. She tried to force her eyes to follow the story on the page.

So intent was she on ignoring what was going on around her that she missed the slight shuffle of bootie-covered shoes.

"Lor," Chris said quietly, his face glowing. He bent down, once again giving her one of those proprietary kisses.

She was right. Luke wasn't asleep. She could feel the disapproval radiating out of him as he swung his legs to the floor.

"Are you a daddy?" she asked Christopher. It wasn't until much later she realized she hadn't added on an 'again' to that sentence.

"It was amazing!" he gushed, nodding vigorously.

Luke stood up and took the step that brought him over to their couch. Holding out one hand to Christopher, he put the other on Lorelai's shoulder, as if he needed to do that for balance. "Luke Danes," he said. "Congratulations. A little girl, is it?"

Chris looked like he was having some trouble keeping up, but he gamely shook Luke's hand. "Yes. A girl. Thanks," he replied, his smile fading a little.

Luke stood up straight, but still kept the hand on Lorelai. "And your wife, she's OK?"

"My fiancée. Yes, Sherry's fine." For the first time he looked from Luke to Lorelai. The skin between his eyebrows puckered as he frowned slightly. "Were you …" He pointed back and forth between them, his gaze ending on Luke. "Were you ― on a date?"

"Yes," Luke answered firmly. "But it's all right that it was interrupted, under the circumstances."

Lorelai had to bite her lips to keep from laughing at the way Luke had managed to not lie, but still give Christopher the wrong impression. She pursed her mouth and gave him the tiniest shake of her head, although she was beaming at him in approval.

Christopher made the decision to ignore Luke and concentrate again on Lorelai. "Come see," he urged, pulling at her.

"Go ahead," Luke told her. "I'll watch Rory."

She tucked her coat around Rory's shoulder and eased her hip out from under the girl's head. She caught Luke's steady gaze briefly and then turned to follow Christopher, matching his excited steps down the hall.

"So how was it?" she asked him.

"Oh, Lor, in my wildest dreams I never could've imagined!" His voice was still throbbing with excitement. "I've never been that nervous, terrified or nauseous in my entire life! It was the most amazing thing ever in the world!"

Lorelai kept her arms crossed snugly across her middle. She ordered her face to keep the smile plastered to it. She hoped he was too caught up in the thrill of the birth to notice how insincere it was.

Christopher's arms, still covered in the pale yellow gown, flailed around in an attempt to describe the experience. "It was like ― Well, you know!"

"Yes, I do. I do know," she agreed. Her focus fell to the floor and she lost the smile, for just a moment.

"I've never seen anything like it!" he raved.

"Yeah," she said sadly. It was true. He hadn't.

"And Sherry was great!" he continued, before pausing for a beat to laugh at himself. "I'm flying! I mean it, I'm flying!"

She laughed, because she'd always laughed at his antics, but it sounded forced. She hoped he wouldn't notice that either.

"There," he said, aiming them at the nursery window. "That's my daughter," he said proudly.

Lorelai stopped herself from pointing out he had another daughter, asleep in the waiting room. Instead they both gazed for a moment at the pink-wrapped newborn

"She's perfect," Chris decreed, awe surrounding the words.

Lorelai couldn't let that pass. "Rory was perfect," she said, her firm voice letting him know there would be no discussion on that point. But she knew she had to give some praise to this interloper. "She however, is a good solid second," she was forced to admit. "She's beautiful. Really. Congratulations, Christopher."

She could feel his eyes landing on her; could tell that he was really seeing _her_ right now at this moment. "Thank you," he said, and she could tell he meant it; could tell that maybe for the first time ever he understood. "Thank you for everything."

A million things swirled through her brain, and she wanted to sit him down right then and there and discuss everything that had gone awry between them since Rory was conceived. But it was the wrong time and the wrong place, and really, what did it matter anymore, anyway?

"Of course," was all she said, waving her arm towards him weakly. She took one more look at his second-place daughter. "Let's go get Rory," she suggested, not wanting to stand there with him any longer.

In the waiting room she relieved the sentry on duty and Christopher gently woke Rory. She was soon awake enough to understand that the waiting was over. Thrilled, she bounced off down the hall with Chris to see her baby sister.

Lorelai watched them disappear before she whirled around to Luke.

"He thinks she's the most perfect baby in the world!" she complained, feeling hot bitterness bubbling in her throat. "Well, she's not! Rory was the most perfect, most beautiful baby ever! And I have the pictures to prove it!"

"I believe you," Luke said mildly, watching her.

His calmness drew some of the bile from her, and she sat down hard on the couch opposite him. She crossed her arms once again and laid her head back, staring up at the acoustic tiles in the ceiling.

His presence and his silence worked as a salve on the sullenness churning in her heart. It comforted her, knowing he'd wait however long it would take for her to work through what was bothering her.

"Do you want to hear how Rory got her name?" she asked him, finally breaking the silence.

"I know that," he reminded her. "I've heard that story about you and the Demerol every October since I've known you."

She was quiet for a few more moments, checking to make sure she was really going to come clean to him. "That's the story I tell everyone," she said, with a hushed, honest note in her voice that she could tell was making him pay attention. "Do you want to hear the real one?"

"Sure," he said. She heard him sitting up straight on the couch. She could feel that he was watching her intently.

She pulled herself upright too, but she couldn't bring herself to look directly at him. Instead she gazed at the cuffs on his sweater, where he'd pushed them up on his arms. She gave out a sigh, almost as if that released the catch on her secrets.

"Everything you said tonight was true, Luke. I was just a kid. I was a kid, and I was scared, and I had nothing." She sighed again and looked down at her fingers as she rubbed them together. "I didn't have a diploma, or a driver's license, or any money to my name. All I had was a baby on the way, a weak boyfriend, and parents who were insisting I had to do things their way."

She shook her head as she hunched her shoulders, remembering. "I couldn't sleep," she told him, giving him a quick smile. She looked back down at her lap before he could see how shiny wet her eyes were. "Mainly because of the baby. She was so big already, that month before she was born. I couldn't ever get comfortable, and plus babies have this way of waking up just when you're ready to sleep. They do these acrobatic moves, like somersaults, and there's just no way to sleep through them. They love to stretch out as far as they can, and suddenly you've got this foot pushing against your spine and another one kicking you in the kidneys."

"Sounds like fun." Luke's voice had that familiar sarcastic edge to it, but at the same time it was so gentle.

She nodded at him, doing another one of those really quick smiles. "So my little acrobat was keeping me awake, and during all of those long nights, the only thing I could think about was our future. What was I going to do? How was I going to raise a baby? How was I going to give her a better life than the one I had? Was I strong enough? Was I brave enough? How ― How was I ever going to be able to do this?" To her embarrassment, a sob choked off the last word.

In a flash Luke moved over to sit beside her, his hand once again feeling warm and solid on her shoulder. "It's OK," he said at once. "You don't have to tell me this."

Her sigh this time was a quivering one. "Yeah, I think I do," she said. "I want you to know that even though I was just a kid, I knew how important my decisions were going to be for Rory. I know you think that I act childish and immature now, a lot more than what I should, probably. But that's only to make up for those years when I should have still been a kid, but I had to be a grown-up instead."

She saw his jaw tense when he swallowed hard, but she didn't give him a chance to say anything. "I was terrified, Luke. All of those sleepless nights, just laying there terrified of having this baby. I lay there night after night, coming up with all of these schemes and plans so that I could raise her the way I wanted to. But I was just a kid, and I knew my shortcomings better than anyone. I knew there was a pretty good chance I wouldn't be able to do it. I knew that there was a good chance I'd crumble and my parents would take over. They'd raise Rory the way they'd want to, and I'd be pushed aside. I wouldn't have a say about anything, and that was the most terrifying thought of all."

She paused to take a breath, forcing herself to continue when she saw how intensely he was following her words. "Finally one night I hit on a plan. I'd name her after myself. I'd name her Lorelai. That way, even if things went completely wrong and I lost her, she'd always know who her mother was. Every time someone would call her 'Lorelai,' she'd know. Every time I called her, or said her name, I'd remember that I was her mother." She looked at Luke, throwing back her head defiantly. "They couldn't take her completely away from me that way. My name was always going to be hers."

He blinked a few times and then looked off into the distance, his hand clutching her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "But you didn't crumble," he pointed out. She thought she caught a hint of pride in his voice.

"No." She smiled, not minding the few tears that were insisting on trickling out of her eyes. "No, I didn't."

He nodded and didn't say anything for a short period of time, as if he was consigning her story to his memory. His hand stayed steady on her shoulder. "I think," he finally said, "that you couldn't have given her a better name." He studied her soberly. "It's a perfect name. For both of you."

"Thanks." She tucked her head down while she made quick work of the tears. She wasn't sure if she should be embarrassed or proud of them.

She then raised and lowered her shoulders, looking at him hesitantly. "Say, do you want to go see the baby? She really is pretty cute."

He shook his head slowly, a smile sneaking out at last. "You know what? Why don't you just show me some of Rory's baby pictures sometime instead?"

A glowing happiness lit her up from inside. "Because you'd rather see the world's most perfect baby," she surmised.

"Exactly," he agreed.

"Well, then, it's a date," she confirmed.

Without any bashfulness Luke threaded his arm behind her back, encircling her shoulders, and Lorelai angled herself against him, letting her head rest against his warm, soothing chest.

And the odd thing was that it didn't feel odd at all.

* * *

The drive home was subdued.

At first, Rory was buoyed up from getting to hold her sister and the cumulative events of the night. She chattered on excitedly, amazed at how tiny but solid the baby was in her arms. Gradually the adrenaline thinned out and she spoke less and less, eventually easing her head onto her mother's shoulder and fading out completely.

Luke, as usual, was saying very little, and for once Lorelai was matching him word for word. Except for pointing out a few directional tips and occasionally asking him if he was still alert enough to drive, she kept quiet. Most of her conversations were taking place exclusively in her head.

She was sitting in the middle of the bench seat, and at first she did her best to leave some space between herself and Luke by leaning in the opposite direction, against Rory. It seemed like they'd done a lot of touching tonight; possibly more in total than they had in all of their years of acquaintance. The touching had started back in the diner, when Nicole had answered her phone, and Luke kept pushing her arms down as she waved them about in protest. Had that really been just earlier tonight? It seemed like a year had passed since then.

As the drive progressed, however, she found herself gravitating towards him until at last she was pressed against his side in the same way Rory was tucked up against her. It was warm and cozy in the truck cab, and he was solid and dependable and real. Her head inched down until it was impossible to tell her dark, straightened hair from the leather covering his shoulder.

He didn't seem to mind. He even dipped his shoulder slightly, making a softer resting spot for her.

_Maybe just highlights to start with,_ her brain suggested, still trying out the strawberry-blonde idea. _We'll see if he notices those, first._

She sighed and closed her eyes, and didn't open them until she felt the road change under the truck's tires, when Luke turned off the highway and started to navigate the streets into Stars Hollow. She stayed silent until he pulled up into her driveway and cut the engine.

"Luke." She caught a breath and tried to smile, shaking her head, wondering how she'd ever be able to put into words what she needed to say about tonight. "You were beyond a white knight tonight, my friend. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come to my rescue. It seems so inadequate to say thank you, but I can't think of anything else to say. I need to create a new word to express my gratitude to you, like supercalifragilistic-thank-you or something." She took in a little more oxygen and put her hand on his forearm, rubbing it very gently. "Thank you, Luke."

He glanced down at her hand on his arm, and then turned his face to the window, looking over at Babette and Morey's. "_You_ were incredible tonight, Lorelai." His voice was way down in the gruff register. "You handled things you should have never been expected to handle, and you did them with more grace and kindness than I've ever seen. I knew you had a big heart, but until tonight, I didn't know just how big."

She swore she could see miniature electrical charges sending out starbursts of light from where her hand was now resting on his arm, and she squeezed a little tighter against the leather of his sleeve, hoping maybe they'd go away, because well, they worried her.

"Coming from you, I take that as a real compliment." She tried to concentrate only on him, ignoring the charged atmosphere developing in the cab.

He nodded, and she shifted Rory a little bit more upright, thinking that soon she'd have to wake her and get her into the house. "I'm still sorry about ruining your date tonight," she said.

_No you're not!_ her brain chided her.

"My offer still stands to call Nicole and try to fix things with her."

_Idiot! Shut up!_ her brain yelled.

His hands went back up and clutched the top of the steering wheel. "I don't want to fix things with Nicole."

"You're…You're sure?" She was having a terrible time trying to take a breath.

"I'm sure," he muttered.

"OK," she said. She sat immobile for a few beats longer, hoping that maybe he'd say something else. She longed to stay in this warm space, pressed up against him, for as long as she possibly could. She gazed at his chiseled profile, admiring those insanely long lashes. She shivered a little bit, picturing moving away from him.

"Well." She couldn't think of anything else to prolong her stay. "I guess I'd better get Rory inside." She smiled at him, but he didn't look over at her. She started to inch away from him, moving Rory towards the door.

"Lorelai, wait." He was looking straight ahead, his hands still tight on the wheel.

She stopped, Rory's head heavy on her shoulder.

His hands suddenly relaxed their grip and fell lifelessly to his knees. She watched the muscles in his throat bunch up as he swallowed - nervously, she thought. He sighed, as though resigned to the words that were coming next.

"So. Old friends can kiss you, huh?"

Already she could feel it. This was going to change everything, no matter what she said.

"Yes." She felt the air molecules around her shifting and sliding into new patterns.

He was still staring straight ahead, but his back stiffened with resolve.

"Am I an old friend?" he asked, his voice stretched taut.

"Yes," she said, a quicker response this time, because there was no question that he was, and anyway, everything had already been transformed into something new. The air she pulled into her lungs tingled, as though laced with ice crystals. She put a hand up under the fold of her turtleneck, trying to ease the shock of the newness.

He turned to her then, his teeth biting into a corner of his lip, but his eyes met hers without wavering. He put a hand on her face, his thumb running to her chin, tipping her face to meet his.

"Chris kisses me on the cheek," she felt like she needed to point out, the words tripping out of her mouth and spilling the insecurity she was too afraid to voice.

Luke stopped and pulled back a fraction of an inch, his hand remaining firmly in place. "I'm not Christopher, Lorelai. I'm not ever going to do anything the way he does. Is that a problem?"

The continual bruise that had lived around her heart for months suddenly stopped throbbing. The ice crystals in her lungs melted away.

She met his gaze. There was absolutely no reason to shy away. "No," she told him. "That's not a problem at all."

He gave a brief nod and then, oh, so very seriously, brought his lips down onto hers.

Lorelai had thought about kissing Luke maybe once or twice or several thousand times. Those scenarios varied depending on her mood. If they'd fought and he was denying her coffee and being a sanctimonious ass, she figured the kiss would be nice but nothing earth-shattering. If they'd had a good bantering day, with extra flirting and pie à la mode given without badgering him for it, she imagined that the kiss would knock her socks off. What she never imagined was the 'click' she heard as all of the pieces of her life settled into place. She never imagined sparks and comfort at the same time. She never imagined that she could feel the most like herself while connecting to someone else.

She drew back fractionally, her heart quivering as Luke was absorbed into it.

"I'm sorry," she breathed out against his lips.

He inched back, his forehead creased in worry. "Sorry?" His voice was raspy from concern and want.

"Sorry I didn't know." Her fingers were clutching at his collar, desperate to bring him back; desperate to make him understand. "Sorry I didn't know it was you."

"Oh." He chuckled slightly, even as his mouth found hers again. "It is me," he agreed, and she was afraid he didn't understand, but as soon as he kissed her again she realized he did. He'd known all along.

She tried to shift herself to press closer to him, but in doing so she dislodged Rory, who made a sleepy groan of irritation. At that, their eyes snapped open and they moved apart, suddenly realizing the choice of location for their first kiss was sadly lacking. They smiled and shrugged sheepishly at each other.

"I should..." she trailed off, motioning towards her sleeping daughter and the door. He nodded and she started to reach for the door handle.

"Wait," he said again, his voice now urgent. Once again his hands grasped the steering wheel, this time his fingers rubbing around it in agitation. He hunched his shoulders and then sighed, shaking his head. "I'm just gonna say this, OK? I'm gonna say it before I lose my nerve."

"OK," she said, and held her breath, eager to hear what he needed to tell her.

"It's about tonight," he began. "And about what you had to do when Rory was born." He turned and looked at her, and his eyes were beaming promises to her and he didn't look away and she saw the man who always had been and always would be there for her. "If it ever happened again…you wouldn't be alone. Not for a minute. I just…I wanted you to know that."

"I do know." She reached out and put her hand on his cheek that was already becoming scruffy again. She pulled him down until she could rest her forehead against his. She wanted him to feel the smile on her mouth, so she kissed him again, gently. "I do know," she whispered.

"Good." He pushed her hair back behind the ear closest to him and pressed her against him, holding her there for another minute or two. With a sigh he pulled back. "Let me get around to the door, and I'll help get Rory out."

"OK." She nodded enthusiastically, barely able to keep the excitement building inside her at bay.

He opened the passenger side door, she lightly shoved on Rory and he caught her, carefully helping her to balance on her own wobbly legs. Lorelai scrambled out and took possession of her grumpy daughter, who whined and huddled herself down inside her coat, shivering. Luke reached past them and snagged Rory's backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as he shut the truck's door. Then, together, they each put an arm around Rory's back, walking her towards the house.

At the door Lorelai let Luke hold up Rory while she fished for the key in her purse. After a moment of fumbling the door swung open and she flipped on the light. Luke helped her walk Rory to her room.

"I'll let you get her settled," he said, his voice low, when they reached her room.

Lorelai nodded. She didn't turn on the light in Rory's room, but let the illumination washing in from the hallway be enough. She sat Rory down on her bed. Gently, she removed her daughter's coat, eased off her boots, and pulled the Chilton sweater off over her head. She tugged on the end of her braid, pulling out the elastic. She ran her fingers gently through her little girl's hair, loosening the plaits, watching the silky strands flow together.

She pushed on Rory's shoulders, convincing her to lie down. She pulled up the covers, tucking her in.

"Sleep tight, Baby," she whispered. "You're home now." She bent to leave a kiss on her forehead.

"Mommy?" she heard, when she was nearly to the door. Her heart contracted at hearing that name from Rory's lips again.

"Yeah, Baby?" she whispered.

Rory's eyes stayed shut tight, but her forehead wrinkled in concentration. "Were you kissing Luke?"

Lorelai's heart sped up. "Maybe," she hedged.

The lines between Rory's eyebrows cleared away. "You should," she yawned. She turned on her side, tucking her hands under her cheek. "He'd make a good dad," she murmured, almost back asleep.

"I think he would too," Lorelai agreed, ready to bubble over. "I think he'd make the best dad ever."

She waited another few moments, in case Rory gave her permission for anything else, but she was already back in dreamland. Lorelai shut the door as quietly as she could.

Out in the living room, Luke was standing in front of the fireplace, staring into the ash-filled cavity. His hands were on his hips and she could tell just from his stance that he was nervous.

She walked up behind him and put her arms around his waist, laying her head against his back. She felt him relax against her. His hand covered hers, caressing it.

"Do you want to stay?" she asked, still whispering.

He went still and then turned to face her, a somewhat stunned look on his face.

Pink crept over her cheeks. "I didn't mean that sort of stay. I meant, you know, just to talk. To discuss…this. Us."

A wry chuckle escaped his lips. "I'd better not," he said, regret tingeing his words.

"But you will, someday, right?" she asked, suddenly worried that she'd made up what had just happened in his truck.

"There's not enough willpower in the world to keep me away from you," he said, giving her a kiss that gave proof to his words.

"Do you want me to dye my hair?" she blurted out, still apprehensive.

"What?" He gave her one of his patented 'Lorelai, you're _so_ crazy' looks.

She ran a strand of her hair through her fingers, flipping the end up to show him. "You know, strawberry-blonde."

"Oh, for cryin'…" He gave an aggrieved look down at the floor. "Can you honestly stand there and tell me you don't know who I've dreamt about for the past seven years?"

Celebratory fireworks were starting to shoot off inside her body. "Does she have dark brown hair?"

"Yes." Luke caught a strand around his finger. "But usually it's curly."

"Does she have blue eyes?"

His hand cradled her face and his thumb swept under her eye. "She has the most astonishing blue eyes I've ever seen."

"Really?" she asked, wanting to tease him, but the word came out still covered in disbelief.

"Really," Luke confirmed.

She cleared her throat and tried to laugh, trying to get them back onto less-serious ground. "So you've been pining for me for seven years?"

"Maybe." He wrapped his arms around her and spoke low into her ear. "I'm going to regret admitting that, aren't I?"

"Definitely," she laughed.

They started walking towards the door, keeping their arms around each other's waist.

"It's awfully late," she pointed out, glancing at the clock. "Or pretty early, I guess. Are you going to be OK since you have to open the diner in an hour or so?" She stopped and turned to face him, running her hand through his hair and bringing it to rest along the side of his face.

"I'll be fine," he assured her, turning to kiss the palm resting on his face. "I doubt that I'll sleep anyway. Too many things to think about to sleep."

"Yeah," she agreed, smiling with pure happiness. "There's a lot to think about."

They shared one last kiss before he opened the door.

"You'll be by the diner later, right?" he asked, pulling his gloves back on as he stepped outside.

"Oh, I'll be there, all right," she said emphatically, crossing her arms against the cold, watching him leave.

"Good," he said, satisfied, taking a step away.

"Hey, Luke?"

He turned back.

"Just so you know, I'm probably going to flirt with you when I get there."

He looked off in the distance, but she could see the smile. She could hear it in his voice. "That's OK. I might even flirt back."

"In fact, I'm probably even going to ask you out."

He put his hands on his hips and slightly shook his head. "Well, then, I'll stand corrected."

"About what?" Prickly concern once again circled her brain.

"The right girl _is_ going to ask me out after all." He gave her a smile that took her breath away and then walked down the steps, heading to the truck.

She waited at the door until he drove away, waving like a love-struck teenager.

Once back inside she spun around in a couple of excited circles until she bumped up against the couch and scraped her knee and realized she was too tired to withstand the dizziness that would come with triumphant twirling.

She let her coat fall onto the couch, turned off the light and walked to the stairs.

She wondered just how much gratitude she was required to feel towards Sherry and Nicole, since they had both inadvertently changed the direction of her life tonight.

"Thank you," she whispered into the dark, and decided that was enough.

* * *

"…and by the time I left, Grandma and I both danced down the steps, singing _I've Had the Time of My Life!"_

"You can't tell him all of that stuff!" Luke protested, not for the first time.

"But I want him to know," Lorelai insisted.

"It's too much!" Luke huffed. "Some of that stuff he doesn't ever need to hear, as far as I'm concerned! Maybe when he's like 20 you can fill him in on the genealogy, but he doesn't need to know that now. Plus, you used some swear words there, too, and I thought we agreed to watch that. Not to mention that you've been talking for practically an hour. No kid's going to sit still for that long!"

"Eh. I'll edit," Lorelai said easily, twirling her hand in the air.

"No she won't," Rory disputed. She'd gotten to the hospital about 15 minutes earlier and had commandeered her baby brother. She looked down at the sleeping boy now, rubbing her palm over his soft, dark curls. "Sorry, kid. You'll be hearing this story every May for the rest of your life."

"It's an important story!" Lorelai proclaimed. "He needs to know how it all happened, because if it hadn't, he wouldn't be here!"

"See, that's another thing!" Luke pointed his finger at her. "You made it sound like we decided to date, and boom! There he was! You skipped right over the year before we got married, and the year we were married, and all the months we tried ―"

"Whoa!" Rory interjected. "Sensitive ears in the room here!"

"Luke, that night we spent together in the hospital waiting for G.G. to be born was one of the most important nights in my life!" She motioned towards the baby. "His, too!"

"I know," he said, sounding grumpy, "but ―"

"Are you telling me it wasn't one of the most important nights in your life?"

He sighed, knowing he was beaten, but not quite ready to admit it. "Yes, it was an important night. I just don't think he needs to hear about it in so much detail."

Lorelai had let Luke help her back into bed when Rory arrived and had been sitting upright, enjoying the storytelling and the breathtaking picture made by her oldest holding the baby. She now gave a flounce of irritation, preparing to wear down Luke's protest, and forgot, for a moment, what her body had been through in the past day. She winced involuntarily and clutched at the railing in pain.

"You need to take it easy." Luke was right there, urging her to lay back, his eyes filled with concern as his hand brushed back her hair. "You're trying to do too much."

"Ah, there he is," Lorelai said, emotion throbbing through her. She put her hand up against his face, caressing it, not caring a bit about the 2-days' worth of coarse whiskers bristling against her palm. "There's that guy who was with me in the delivery room not too long ago. He's the one who promised me the sun and the moon and all of the coffee in the diner if I'd push just one more time."

Luke looked at her, his heart right there in his eyes, and she knew no matter how much as they'd loved each other before, sharing the birth of their son had sealed them into an even tighter bond. She squeezed his hand, hoping he understood, because even with all of the words she could string together at a moment's notice, she didn't think she could do justice to the depth of her feelings for this man.

"Rory." Luke's warning was husky, as he bent over his wife. "Close your eyes."

"Oh, for ―" Resigned, Rory lowered her head to the baby's, cupping her hand around his face to block the image of their parents kissing once again. "If this gets too bad, you just say the word. You can come live with me, OK?" she offered him.

"Oh, right, because you and that blond, arrogant ―"

"Luke," Lorelai interrupted him, sweetly.

He sighed. "Sorry," he muttered, not exactly sounding contrite.

But Rory only grinned, letting the baby's fingers curl around one of hers. "Logan's heading to London soon. He won't be around much, so your worries over PDAs will be a thing of the past."

"Good," Luke said, under his breath.

"So what's the decision on the name?" Rory asked. "Or do I have to call him 'Hey, You' for the foreseeable future?"

"I got my way!" Lorelai crowed.

"There's a shock," Rory grinned. "So this is little Luke?"

"I've agreed that his first name is Lucas," Luke grumbled. "He will not be little Luke!"

"Well, it only seemed fair," Lorelai explained, yet again. "I named Rory after me. Our son should be named after you."

"So what are we calling him, then?" Rory wanted to know.

"Nathan," Lorelai said, her voice gentling over the syllables. "Lucas Nathan Danes."

Rory's eyes sparkled with amusement when she looked at her stepfather. "You let her name him after her current piece of TV eye-candy?"

"I thought it was better than Brady!" Luke snapped.

"Brady?" Rory's eyebrows arched.

"The name of some drunk that accosted her that night the Jeep died in Hartford!" Luke sounded miffed, but Lorelai gave Rory a wink, letting her know that was never a real possibility.

"Well, I like Nathan," Rory said, prepared to smooth things over. "Hello, Nathan," she cooed to the little boy. "Welcome to our little corner of the world. We've been waiting on you for a long time."

"Isn't he perfect?" Lorelai asked the room in general, awestruck.

"Well…" Luke hedged. He went to stand behind Rory, his hand lovingly cradling the back of her head as he looked down at his son. "Rory was perfect," he reminded Lorelai. "I've seen the pictures." He smiled down at the baby, watching him sleep in his sister's arms. "But this one…I don't know. I think we've just got to admit it, Lorelai. We've got two perfect kids."

"I guess we'll just have to live with that fact," Lorelai sighed dramatically.

"You'll also need to live with the fact that Grandma and Grandpa will be here fairly soon," Rory pointed out. "Do they know the name yet?"

"Not yet."

"Well then, they'll have to bring the engraved silver sippy cups the next time, but I bet this kid will still haul in the loot from the grandparents," Rory said.

"Aw, is big sister jealous?" Lorelai said, using baby talk. "Once Mommy is back on her feet, maybe she'll take lil' Wowy shoe shopping."

Rory grinned but still rolled her eyes as she carefully got up and carried Nathan over to Lorelai. "I'm not jealous a bit," she said, laying her head against her mother's for a moment, as she passed the baby over to her. "He's beautiful," she murmured. She sat on the edge of the bed, leaning against Lorelai.

Luke couldn't help but be drawn over to them, too. He perched on the other side of the bed, one hand on his wife's leg as he bent forward to watch every breath drawn by the baby.

"But I don't want you to feel neglected," Lorelai told Rory, still teasing her a little bit, but also wanting her to never forget her place in their family. "Oh, I know! I can tell you a story, too!"

"Maybe." Rory tilted her head, considering. "Which story?"

"My favorite one," Lorelai said. She felt the warmth from her baby in her arms while she leaned against her daughter, remembering all of the years that they had held each other up. She felt her husband's hand anchored around her, letting her know without words that he was always going to be right there beside her.

If she had to hold even one more drop of happiness, she'd probably burst.

It was a good thing her parents were on the way. They'd siphon off some of the happiness. There'd be no danger of bursting then.

She smiled at Luke and squeezed Nathan and snuggled up against Rory.

"It's the story about the night I found your stepfather…"


End file.
